Registering for Iroon.com and beginning my first post.

I imagine this is what it must feel like for someone coming home from a very long journey. You still have the same name you had when you left, but there is no longer any other similarity between you and the person who once stood at this same threshold and said your farewell. You've been weathered by life, time has caused your soul irregular wear and tear, you don't even contemplate the reason behind why you're back. Just, you're back. Because this here, is where you began.

I first shared my thoughts with the world courtesy of the creator of this new site. I was a wide-eyed teenager with grand notions about the world and my place in it, my misunderstood country, my unique cultural heritage, my passion for putting pen to paper, or more realistically, my fingers to the keyboard. The moment something new was posted under my name, my heart would beat quickly, my fingernails dancing along my ready-to-nibble teeth. I would wait for that first comment, like a junkie waiting for the next fix.

That site which shall remain nameless gave me my first taste of what it is to have an audience to your writing. The creator of that site gave me courage to speak my mind and create words out of thoughts. Over the years, as I visited it less and less and retreated into the dull monotony of work and education, I never forgot the lesson I learned here. I learned I am a writer. Of all other jobs or skills available in this world, it is writing that stirs my heart and gives me purpose I cannot find anyplace else.

So, here I am, standing at the threshold of this new place which symbolizes the home I left so long ago. I am different from the girl who left. My words may not send the optimistic message of days past. But, my name is the same. I am standing here, in a place I once called safe.

I see a light on, the door ajar, and I'm ready to gather my courage and step inside...